


Sufferance is the Badge

by Rogue_Bard



Category: October Daye Series - Seanan McGuire
Genre: Gen, Judaism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 06:09:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18026192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rogue_Bard/pseuds/Rogue_Bard
Summary: A neighborly mistake leads to Luidaeg to a very interesting dinner party.





	Sufferance is the Badge

_Still have I borne it with a patient shrug,_   
_For sufferance is the badge of all our tribe._

**_The Merchant of Venice_ **

 

It wasn’t that she didn’t like to cook, it was just that when you’d been alive for as long as she had, one was entitled to fall into a rut from time to time. Omelets for breakfast, baked potatoes for dinner. It was a perfectly respectable level of cooking to be doing. As a bonus, it made stocking up easy, so she only had to bother with the shopping once every few weeks.

And so it was that Antigone, now called the Luidaeg by most, and Anne by some, oldest daughter of Mauve and Oberon, came to be standing in a grocery store checkout line one afternoon in April with, among other things, two ten pounds bags of potatoes and three 18 count cartons of eggs.

“Oh hey, hi!” a voice behind her said. When no response followed, Antigone turned. The young woman she found was looking at her expectantly. It took Antigone a moment to place her. A few weeks before, this girl has been having some trouble with several men on her walk home. Antigone had gotten involved, staring them down, and something in their little lizard brains had told them that running was the best choice. She had then continued on her walk, thinking nothing else of it. But apparently there was more to think about.

“Hello. I trust you haven’t been bothered again?” Antigone asked. It always paid to be polite to one’s neighbors. Oh, she did all sorts of favors for them, keeping the neighborhood safe from the troubles that normally plagued places that were long on heart, but short on cash. But most people hadn’t had the opportunity to witness these favors directly.

“Oh no, everything’s been fine. I was just wondering, because, you know” here the girl gestured towards Antigone’s items on the belt, “If you have a place for tonight?” Antigone paused long enough that the girl seemed to take it as a response. “Great!” the girl said brightly. “We start at 5:30, but JST, so who really knows?" She set her own cartons of eggs on the belt and pulling an old receipt out of her pocket, grabbing the pen chained to the check writing stand and jotting down an address before handing it to Antigone. She took it, baffled. Humans were strange sometimes. But it wasn’t as though she had anything else to do. Maybe a break from baked potatoes wouldn’t be the worst thing.

“I’ll see you there, then,” she said, smiling and putting the paper in her pocket, before paying for her purchases and loading up her canvas bags to walk home. As she crossed the parking lot, Antigone tried to remember the last time someone had asked her to be their guest somewhere with no ulterior motive. A few years ago, the answer would have been almost a century. Now, Toby came by at least once a month to eat donuts and play chess, even if that was more her being Antigone’s guest. And Quentin had invited her to come with him to the Cherry Blossom Festival just last week. He was such a nice boy, though not near as afraid of her as he should be.

This woman, though, was fully human, without even the dusty spark that would indicate a merlin. She would surely know nothing of the tales of the Luidaeg. She came seeking no favors, and offered only hospitality, which was a significant gift in Faerie but had become undervalued in the mortal world over the last century. Why it should matter tonight of all other nights that Antigone have a place for dinner, she did not know. But it was clearly an offer kindly meant, and so she resolved to accept it.

* * *

 

Hefting the potted lavender plant she had brought onto one hip, Antigone rang the doorbell. She was glad she had walked the few blocks to her neighbor’s place. Both sides of the street were fully lined with cars, some parked more legally than others. A din of voices emanated from the house, and a loudly pitched and slightly exasperated voice called out ‘Would one of you just- thank you Danny!’ right before the door opened. A dark haired young man in jeans and a flannel shirt stood inside.

“Hi, welcome,” he said, stepping back to let Antigone through the door. He held out a basket full of what appeared at first glance to be fabric coasters. It wasn’t until Antigone noticed that he was wearing one on his head that she realized they were very small hats. “Want one?” he asked. When she hesitated, he plowed on, “You don’t have to, but the whole egalitarian thing, you know? And lord knows Rachel has enough to go around.” A glance around told Antigone that while all the men in the room wore one, less than half of the women did.

“I’m good,” she said, smiling in lieu of the casual thanks mortals offered each other so often. Shrugging, he set the basket back down.

“I’m Daniel, by the way.” He offered his hand.

“Anne,” she said, taking it and giving it a firm shake. Introductions made, he turned back to a group of people who he clearly knew, and Antigone was left to look around for her hostess. She set the plant down on a clear side table, and then went to further explore. Predictably enough, she found her strange hostess clad in an apron and working busily in the kitchen.

“Oh hi! I’m so glad you could make it!” She said as she caught sight of Antigone. Her smile froze and turned into a bright blush as they stood in silence for a few moments, than the woman launched off again. “I’m so sorry, I don’t think I actually know your name? I’m Rachel, by the way.”

“You invited someone to dinner without knowing their name? Geez Rach, you’re incredible.” The other young women in the kitchen said with a laugh, rolling her eyes and shaking her head.

“She helped my when I was in trouble, and she’s Jewish, and she didn’t have a place for Seder, that’s all I really need to know.” Rachel said to her friend firmly, before turning back to Antigone. “But yeah, sorry, what’s your name?”

“Anne, and I’m very grateful for the invitation.” Antigone said with a smile. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“We’re actually just about to get started, I’m just making sure everything is on to warm. Can you two get everyone to sit down?” Rachel asked Anne and the other woman standing in the kitchen.

“Of course,” the woman said, heading for the door. “I’m Talia, by the way,” she said over her shoulder to Antigone.

“Nice to meet you.” Antigone said, following her almost absently as she reflected on what Rachel had just said. Clearly the young woman had made some incorrect assumptions that led to the invitation, but now that she was here, Antigone wasn’t sure how to correct them without seeming rude or embarrassing Rachel in front of her friends.

At Talia’s summons, the group gathered around the table and settled into the motely and impressive collection of chairs. It looked as though at least one folding table had been added on to the dining setup, and it extended out into half of the living room. Antigone ended up near the middle on one side, far away from both Rachel and Talia, and across the table from Daniel, effectively separated from everyone who she had met thus far.

The man to her left was engaged in conversation with his other neighbor, but the woman to her right introduced herself as Mandy and handed Antigone a slim stack of papers held together with binder clips. The front page was covered in type, and not all of it was in English. Antigone eyed it dubiously.

“Oh, it’s totally chill if you don’t know a lot of Hebrew.” Mandy assured her. “A lot of us don’t, and there’s transliteration for everything that we all say. Rachel and Tali do the heavy lifting.”

Antigone nodded and gave a smile, beginning to read over the pages before her. This was sure to be an interesting even. But from the sound of it, there would at least be a great deal of wine.


End file.
